


Breaking The Ice

by yuu_sama



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, M/M, Psychological Drama, Shounen-ai, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-01 11:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8622334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuu_sama/pseuds/yuu_sama
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki was as harsh as the ice mountain. Victor Nikiforov was as cold as the frozen sea. The two were intertwined by fate, desperately seeking the heat that could melt their dead hearts down.





	1. Avalanche

**av·a·lanche**

ˈavəˌlan(t)SH/

(noun) 

_a mass of snow, ice, and rocks falling rapidly down a mountainside_

* * *

 

_“Yuzuru Hanyu, from Sendai, Japan. Just nineteen and ambitious, he’s undoubtedly the bloom on the ice. What an incredible talent.”_

Letting out a gruff sigh, a raven-haired young man sitting alone on the _engawa_ took off his earphones and closed a science book that was supposed to be his source of comfort and entertainment that afternoon. Behind the blue-framed spectacles his eyes twitched slightly, averted from the otherworldly scenery of a traditional garden pond. A grunt escaped his lips when he looked back, hands into tight balls of fists on his sides, animosity piercing through the thin layer of the _shoji_ door as the noise of excited people cheering on and commenting filled the lounge area. Volume of the television was increased and he could feel his blood boil from something he couldn’t restrain. Everyone sounded so cheerful and lively and all, but the pressure was too much for him to bear. Obviously, he was the only one being weird. It was inevitable. Of all places in his house that was integrated with his family business, he regretted that he was there, regretted that he accepted his mother’s suggestion to blend with both regular and new visitors in the lounge area if he would only, as expected, end up being in his own world again.

_“Hear the noise from the ecstatic audience in Megasport Arena. Let’s see how this young man is going to awe the judges.”_

Claps of hands and enthusiastic eyes. An escalation of proud energy. Snacks and drinks on the table. Nobody noticed when the young bookworm entered the lounge area with a flush of distaste on his face. People’s attention was fixedly centered on the TV screen, particularly on a gracefully slim and tall male skater who was preparing himself for his free skating. Euphoria in the Russian arena was contagious, reaching millions of pairs of eyes and hearts in the world, making its endless moments even in the place quite far away like where he was standing at the moment.

_“So leading after the short program, what a performance this guy gave. It was probably the performance of his life. Can he do it again? He’s gonna have to, if he is after the gold medal.”_

One face was zoomed in, the face that bewitched people in the venue and before the television. No smile, just complete readiness and a signature ritual of praying by making an upright cross across his body before he started the game. No smile, just a composed expression of an ethereally beautiful Asian young man. Many achievements. A history maker, a record breaker, name it and people who loved figure skating would mention him. Only a couple of years since he entered the senior-level competition, but nobody would deny that he emerged as the rising star who gave a real challenge to the European skaters who had been dominating the sport for so long. Anticipation was so high. Hanyu Yuzuru, Yuzuru Hanyu. He quickly became a national and international idol, but for the only son of the Katsuki family who owned the only hot springs in the town, the name of the figure skater now on ice was sure to make his gorge rise.

Without hesitation the raven-haired adolescent moved toward the gathering of visitors and tourists, unaware that he was being watched by his older sister who made a cautious frown as the air around him seemed strange. She froze with a tray of ordered _onsen tamago_ in her hands, a glint of speculation in her eyes. Little did she knew that it was a late response.

_“What a beautiful quad jump! Flawless! Is he the guy who will steal the spotlight from Victor Niki—”_

All people gasped in surprise. Black screen, sudden silence. The entertainment was gone from their vision in the middle of its climax. Eyes were turned to the suspicious presence. An unwelcoming expression remained despite confused stares and protests. Without a said apology as the son of the hot springs owner, the young man then placed the remote back on the table, giving them all the cold shoulder. He heard a familiar reprimand but ignored it as he left the traditional lounge, heading back to the attic where his bedroom was situated. Going up the stairs he heard an angry voice again from behind him, but he didn’t stop.

“Yuuri!”

This time he stopped, but didn’t turn around.

“Just why the heck you turned off the television!”

No reply.

Only a bored sigh.

“Aren't we supposed to be proud of seeing the only representative of our country competing in Russia?!”

“Too loud,” he answered finally, looking glum. “Disturbing.” His audible exhalation expressed exasperation. “Wait a minute,” he said unenthusiastically, throwing a glare at the displeased grown-up with dyed blonde hair. “Did you say— _we_?” There was a sharp, palpable emphasis in the last word. “Sorry to say, but I’m not.”

“Figure skating is a big hit, you see?!” she retorted, a point finger of blame directed at the disrespectful brother who was seven years younger than her. “And today our ice prince is in the competition!” Another heated debate, nothing but a continuation of what they had before. “What’s with your cold attitude?! Don’t you always like figure skating?!”

“Once,” he made it clear. No doubt. Perhaps heartless. “I _once_ liked it.”

A resigned sigh was heard. There was a temporary period of silence. “Seriously, Yuuri,” she muttered, now with a worried look, one hand massaging her forehead. “I can’t understand you at all.”

“Neither can I.” Impenetrable defense. Katsuki Yuuri was thin and pale and always known to be a reserved young man, but it was totally wrong to think that he was as fragile as glass. His physical appearance was, overall, deceptive to the majority of people who didn’t know him. “I thought Mari-neechan only had interest in heavy metal and punk rockers.” A taunting smirk hung on his lips. “To put it frankly,” he then looked away, sliding one hand down into the pocket of his denim shorts. “I always cringe at the sight of figure skating now becoming your cup of tea.”

The enemy froze with disbelief and lost words to say. For the umpteenth time, the raven-haired one triumphed over her.

“Yuuri, wait!” she exclaimed as soon as her brother guiltlessly continued to walk away. “Where are you going?! Aren’t you going to say sorry to our costumers?!”

With a bold note of indifference he said, “I’m not feeling sorry.” And he left everything behind. Relaxed steps on the floor, leaving a visible trace of his cold heart.

“Yuuri!”

Total nonchalance.

“Isn’t Hanyu-kun your childhood friend?!”

With the echo of that unexpected question Yuuri suddenly froze. Growing unease filled him. There was an extending episode of a real personality clash between the Katsuki siblings, until the younger one took steps forward and chose to say nothing to end everything.

 

_“Yuu-chan! From now on I’ll protect you!”_

 

Behind the locked door of his room, Yuuri dropped his science book as well as his pathetic being, ridding of all sick pretense as he folded his legs against his rasping chest. His glasses lied next to him, a drop of bitterness slowly gliding down the right lens. It was sometime between afternoon and evening with clear weather, but he was alone and hopeless in the darkness of a haunting piece of the past. Between his knees he buried his face, trembling hard with a quiet cry. He tried to suppress some hurtful memories, but they always found a way to return to him. Relentlessly, erratically, like a wicked shadow that tailed him. And it wasn’t right as he was the only one who felt trapped in such misery, while the other one danced in freedom as if nothing ever happened. For so long he had been forgotten, promises were broken.

“... liar,” he sobbed with hands against his ears, rejecting all whispered lies that had been waiting in the darkest side of his soul. “Liar... you’re a liar...”

 

* * *

 

 **(A/N** ): I hope it's not a serious crime to mix the Anime realm with reality. I am not even an English native speaker, but I will do my best. Anyway, this fanfiction may not be your cup of tea; I am not sure when "the smut" will be written (if that's what you're looking for), but I do hope somebody can give this shit a shot. In this alternate universe, Vicktor Nikiforov is 23 years old, while Katsuki Yuuri is 19 years old. I may and may not follow the canonical events as found in the Anime series, and because there is a "Depression" tag up there, I want to believe that you already get the ideas of how this fanfiction will be.


	2. Crevasse

 

**cre·vasse**

krəˈvas/

(noun)

_a deep open crack, especially one in a glacier_

* * *

 

_“It’s fine now! I’m already here, Yuu-chan!”_

 

Distraction came at the wrong time, though it wasn’t unexpected. The thin, bespectacled young man realized that the ghosts of the past haunted him more frequently these days. Always, loathsome memories appeared out of nowhere and tested his patience. In his head was a vivid image of a boy with a dirt-stained undershirt from a long time ago—a delicate being but surprisingly had guts greater than his size. He averted his gaze with a taste of bitterness on his poised tongue, shifting away from his activity and generally reality, taken back to the time that once in a while resurfaced in his dreams. A click of a pen. A cool breath of air. Thin curtains flipped slowly. Toward the blue sky beyond the window he directed his unsteady state of mind, fixing his frustration at the boundless width that he could never reach.

 

_“Okay... okay... I’m here.”_

 

“Katsu- _nii_?”

A gasp of unpreparedness escaped the parted lips of the older one, but he wasn’t aware of the confused voice beside him yet. Far, very far away back into one point of his history he got stuck and slightly terrified, knowing that he was the slave of his own real weakness. And he had lost count of how many times he cursed himself for being so pathetic. Even after he was given a _second_ chance to live, nothing seemed to change. He didn’t change at all.

“Katsu- _nii_? Are you okay?”

Yuuri snapped out of the illusory fragments of his own childhood. Instead of being in fearless arms he found himself in a square world, facing a couple of opened books on a round table, disoriented for a moment. With slightly bated breath he readapted to his surroundings, trying to remember why he was in someone else’s room, what day it was. And perhaps how to live a normal life again without a sense of attachment to old days. In the end he blew a long sigh, his forehead dropping on his open palm of hand. It was so tiring. Pretending to be heartless, to forget everything was tiring like hell. And knowing that nobody understood his struggle to be as impenetrable as steel, he could only scream inside. Inside, behind the wall of coldness that had frozen all of his purposes. Purposes from a long time ago, in the present, for the future. He stumbled and fell, realizing that he didn’t know what he lived for.

“Let’s stop if you’re not feeling well, Katsu- _nii_ ,” said the worried boy next to him, a middle schooler four years younger than him. The hazelnut-haired student had been there, in mystification watching his tutor’s pale countenance. Not only did the unhealthy look concern him, he also felt that it would be a bad idea to continue on studying with such a strange atmosphere. It wasn’t difficult to see that the dark-haired young man was _mentally_ absent. “You don’t need to force yourself, okay?” A serious request. The boy firmly held the sleeve of the older one’s sweatshirt. His brown eyes sparkled with uneasiness.

“Is that your way to skip learning, Guang Hong Ji?” replied Yuuri with narrowed eyes, a suspicious smirk growing on his lips as he turned and pressed the adorable flesh on the boy’s face with his hand. Only in a matter of seconds he managed to return to his usual menacing attitude, scaring the boy although he knew that the older one wasn’t as cold-hearted as he might appear. “You still need a thousand years to fool me, sly little devil.”

“I... I... don’t mean to...” Guang Hong shuddered from the intimidation, wondering how the high schooler always known to be an unfriendly person could change his demeanor so fast, so skillfully. He believed that there was something wrong with his troubled if not longing look before, but unfortunately could do nothing now that the dark-haired one turned to face him and seemed like he enjoyed scaring the wits out of him. “But... but Katsu- _nii_... you—” Then suddenly he lost what he wanted to say, a hard gulp down his throat, feeling oppressed in the game of psychological endurance.

Yuuri drummed his fingers on the table. “I what?” he asked with a smile that made the butterflies in the boy’s stomach go wild.

Brown eyes stopped blinking. Sounds of a wall clock ticking echoed faintly across the bedroom. A bead of sweat rolling down his temple despite the soothing cold from the air conditioner, Guang Hong dragged himself out of his cushion, backing away from the bespectacled aggressor. Though the piercing stare was only an empty threat, the younger and smaller teenager couldn’t bear the unpleasant feeling of being manipulated. He couldn’t even speak, terrified enough to calm down his own breathing. The older one was a nice tutor however. But obviously, his quirks like talking without considering other people’s feelings and staring intimidatingly were real problems that couldn’t be dealt with easily. “Ah!” The boy screamed all of a sudden. “Your nose is bleeding, Katsu- _nii_!”

“Huh?” The dark-haired young man made a frown, apparently unsurprised as he touched the flowing substance under his nose.

In a mad panic Guang Hong ran across his room to find the first aid. “Tissue! Tissue! Tissue!” Then he rushed back to the older one as soon as he got what he looked for. His whole body trembled from fear. It wasn’t the first time he saw the symptom. Tears forming over his eyes, Guang Hong gave Yuuri a piece of his mind, finally letting go of the invisible bundle of emotions that he had been holding back. “You shouldn’t have forced yourself to start teaching me again!”

A smirk of distaste came first as the response to the boy’s unhappiness. “What do you know about me, brat?” said the irritable young man, roughly running his fingers through the fluffiness of the hazelnut hair. He despised the look in the Chinese boy’s eyes and expressed it very clearly. Clogging up his nostrils with the tissue, he continued, “Just shut the hell up and solve this question.”

Disapproval was still there. “But, Katsu- _nii_...!”

Giving a flick of fingers on his student’s forehead, Yuuri interrupted, “I heard you didn’t get good grades and even failed some exams. What the hell were you doing while I was away, Guang Hong Ji?” Terrified silence returned as he expected. “Seriously.” A sigh of impatience was heard. “Do I always have to goddamn whip your butt to give you the sense of responsibility?”

The boy cowered down, hands squeezed together on his lap.

“Don’t tell me...” A threatening air grew gradually. “Are you perhaps... a masochistic kind of person?”

“Katsu- _nii_!” shouted the frustrated target.

“Then do what I say!”

“Bu-but... I don’t... understand this part... that’s why I... I was asking you...” Stammers were impossible to avoid when Guang Hong tried to argue with the bespectacled superior. He would have cried like a baby if he didn’t defend his pride as a man. The truth must be delivered however, no matter how much he would regret it later. “Bu-but... be-before... you seemed... somehow out of place...” It, indeed, took complete bravery to meet the sharp, judgmental eyes of Katsuki Yuuri. “It was as if... you were troubled by something...”

“Troubled?” Half amusement, half scorn. “Just concern about your study, brat!”

Guang Hong made a wince of surrender as he chickened out, sitting on his cushion in an apologetic manner. For quite a long time he didn’t speak, hands fidgeting on his thighs, unable to find the remnants of will to resist.

“Damn! Okay, fine.” Yuuri groaned in annoyance. “Be all ears, I’ll explain it again.”

Then suddenly a mutter was heard. “Katsu-nii...”

“What again now?”

“Are you really alright?” This time those clear brown eyes only spoke of worry. Of pure compassion. “If you need to rest, then—”

Pinching the pinkish, fleshy cheek of the restless boy, Yuuri smirked and said, “A child has nothing to do with an adult’s business.”

“I’m not a child!” Guang Hong immediately reclaimed his freedom. His brown eyes now glinted with annoyance as he pouted. “Stop talking to me like I’m a child!”

Yuuri enjoyed the sight of adorable anger in front of him. “You’re a child, are you not?”

“Just wait, you!” Rising to his feet, the Chinese boy blurted out with a weird accent, very much to the young man’s amusement. “I’ll grow taller and bigger than you, Katsuki Yuuri!”

“Dream on, brat!” The mentioned object of that fiery statement gave the boy’s ear a punitive tweak. A wicked grin on his face, he took pleasure in the playful torture. The navy-themed room was then filled with a terrified plea for mercy. “Now will you listen to me or not?”

Of course, Guang Hong was the one to raise the white flag first. After the ridiculous drama was forced to come to an end, the frightening tutor and his student returned to their normal and uninterrupted activity. Impatient sighs, nervous gasps. The two finally spent the afternoon together after the quite long absence of the only and youngest son of the Katsuki family. Guang Hong, without a shadow of a doubt, had been missing Yuuri, although it was very likely that he would end up being the object of the bespectacled bully. The boy was delighted and scared and worried at the same time, but only being with Yuuri he could completely forget the loneliness that he sometimes couldn’t bear.

“Katsu- _nii_...”

An uninterested, gruff sound was heard. “What again now?”

“I’m... hungry...”

“Should I care, huh? You haven’t even answered this _crap_ yet,” replied the Japanese descendant, a look of disapproval at Guang Hong from the tail of his eyes, the pen between his thin fingers pointing against the quadratic equation on the boy’s book.

Guang Hong remained silent and just made an imploring look, so irresistible like a puppy that Yuuri finally responded with a groan of resignation while putting down his pen. The boy’s brown eyes immediately brightened as he knew that not even his cold-hearted tutor could avoid his trick.

“So what do you have in your fridge?” asked Yuuri, giving the bridge of his nose a light massage.

“I want _Katsudon_!” The boy raised his hand so voluntarily and excitedly, loud enough that he received the irritable tutor’s pinch on his cheek in return.

“Do not suddenly scream near me, you brat!”

“Because I’ve been missing your _Katsudon_ , Katsu- _nii_!”

There was only a short, unclear reply from Yuuri, then the young man walked toward the exit, followed by the hazelnut-haired boy who looked so aflame with longing and joy. Sounds of steps echoed faintly across the space as they walked down the stairs. As usual, the minimalist two-story house always seemed _dead_ during the daytime. Guang Hong’s father  worked as a Mandarin teacher in some private school, while his mother owned the busiest cloth store in the town. The family of three moved to Japan five years ago for financial motives. And the long friendship of their fathers was what brought Yuuri and Guang Hong together, making the older one assigned to tutor the boy who apparently didn’t do well academically.

Always being left alone at home, Guang Hong had got used to taking responsibility of himself, of course with some help in his study. And Yuuri knew it fairly well that the boy sometimes looked bored and lonely, and that the boy considered him as his older brother since the first day they met. Although Yuuri always showed awkward concern and even intimidation that sometimes made Guang Hong cry, nobody really knew that the boy was actually annoyingly clingy to him. Obviously, Guang Hong appeared small and adorable and tough as an independent son of working parents, but only Yuuri who knew how spoiled and deceptive he could be.

“Hey, brat! Aren’t you going to help me here?” the bespectacled young man threatened, a knife in his hand.

“No, no, no,” answered the cute human, sitting in lively enjoyment behind the kitchen counter, his chin propped on his two hands. “I just want to watch Katsu- _nii_.”

“What the hell is that?!”

“He he.”

“Do not _he he_ me!”

Just like that— _exactly,_ like that. Guang Hong actually loved teasing Yuuri, loved it when he was scolded for getting on the older one’s nerves. And the absence of the brother figure for months surely had taken away such pleasure for him. Now that Yuuri had returned, although with a paler and thinner appearance that mainly became the cause of worry, Guang Hong was secretly grateful as his life wouldn’t be as bland as before anymore. Particularly, because the older guy never changed even after spending so many weeks in the hospital under meticulous medical treatment and supervision. Katsuki Yuuri stayed the way he always was—still a short-tempered, sharp-tongued, but at the same time tender-hearted kind of a person.

When the pork cutlet bowl was finally served, Guang Hong flushed with loud excitement and couldn’t wait a second. Standing on the opposite side of the kitchen counter, hands in the pockets of his apron, Yuuri watched the lively boy with an admonitory look and told him to eat more slowly, but of course the hazelnut hair wouldn’t listen. His favorite dish of all time was always the pork cutlet bowl made by the youngest family member of _Yu-topia Akatsuki_. And even though angry words were spit out here and there around the counter, the glowing and contagious delight on the boy’s face didn’t seem to cease. Guang Hong enjoyed the perfectly-cooked _Katsudon_ so much that tears emerged from the lower lines of his eyes, so very much that the bespectacled chef was speechless with unexpressed relief and gladness. But then, wihout a sign the boy suddenly stepped down from his long-legged chair, taking the older one unawares.

“Where the hell are you going, brat?!” A strain on Yuuri’s vocal cords. The hazelnut hair left the dish behind half-eaten. “HEY! GUANG HONG JI!!!”

The truth was the Chinese boy felt so happy that he couldn’t contain it. When he finally returned, a few grains of rice still sticking around the corner of his mouth, he made Yuuri reflexively stepped back in complete unpreparedness.

“Look! Look at this!” Wearing a proud expression, Guang Hong raised an unwrapped box closer to the stunned young man. “Dad bought me this DVD a few days ago!”

Yuuri turned rigid with growing contempt. His heart clenched.

“ _Hanyu On Ice_!” said the boy, revealing the title of the recorded ice show that had nationally been in the spotlight recently as the best-selling one since its first day of release. “Hanyu _nii-san_ is really amazing, isn’t he?!” Bright adoration in the boy’s eyes wasn’t a lie. Yuuri remained silent as gloom clouded his very soul. “I wish I could be a great figure skater like him too!” The starry-eyed boy then snuggled closer to the older guy and gently pulled his sleeve. “ _Ne, ne,_ Katsu- _nii_ , can you teach me how to skate on ice?” he asked. Hope was radiating from him. “I had ever watched you before!” An enthusiastic clap of hands. “And you were incredible!”

Inexplicable silence responded to the hopeful force. The expression on the boy’s face gradually changed as Yuuri took off his apron and looked down at his watch. Puppy eyes failed this time. No words were heard. Confusion reigned. Guang Hong stayed still and watched apprehensively as grimness surrounded the presence of the dark-haired young man.

“I’m not doing figure skating,” said Yuuri in complete sullenness that crashed all the younger one felt at once, placing down some dirty stuffs in the sink. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Guilt immediately exploded within Guang Hong, instead of dismay. “But—!”

“I gotta go home now,” Yuuri quickly silenced the boy, more coldly, walking past him without even looking back. “Finish your meal, then back to your homework.”

 


End file.
